


here’s to who you know

by fishstixx



Series: underhanded, slightly damaged [2]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dadza, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, DreamSMP - Freeform, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit is Not Okay (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:02:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishstixx/pseuds/fishstixx
Summary: “Tommy is wild. Let him be wild.”-a sequel of sorts to all scotch, no soda - you don’t have to have read that to understand, though!each chapter can be read as a standalone fic that takes place in the same universe as the main story; mostly before, but some are during the time the main fic takes place. i will take requests in the comments!
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: underhanded, slightly damaged [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064213
Comments: 51
Kudos: 633





	1. a meeting and a rescue

Among the endless forest, a child stumbled forward. Branches cracked beneath his uneasy footsteps. He looked no more than four, definitely not near old enough to be wandering on his own. 

A plush bee was clutched to his chest, the bottom half of the boy’s face pressed into the toy like it could protect him from the evils of unfamiliar territory. 

He tripped over a tendril of an unfamiliar plant that crossed his path and fell forward, hitting the ground with an ‘umf’. His stuffed animal fell from his hands and rolled forward, but when he tried to grab for it he found that his foot was stuck.

The boy glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide and round. The tendril was stuck to the hem of his jeans, thorns hooked backwards and snared into the fabric.

Struggling only made it worse and he didn’t realize until he had slid backwards and his lower half was nearing the center of the patch of whatever had caught him. Suddenly desperate for the comfort of the toy instead of escape, he threw himself forward one more time and only barely managed to catch a wing in his fingers.

By now the thorns were beginning to dig into his skin, tearing small trails of crimson along his legs and ankles. The boy clutched his toy to his chest and screamed.

The uncomfortable feeling of another creature’s gaze fell over to burn on his skin. Screams turned to cries, to tears. Every shadow suddenly felt like another creature out to get him, and stuck as he was, there was nothing he could do to get away.

Unintentionally, because the boy would much rather hide than try and see what was after him, he found a set of eyes peering at him through the shadows. They glinted in the shadows, glittering and dangerous. Suddenly afraid that sound would get him caught before it saved him, the cries died in his throat and he just hiccupped quietly.

The boy had just accepted imminent doom when the source of the eyes dropped down from the low branches of the trees. Suddenly things were much less scary as he realized that it wasn’t a bear or a wolf, but a boy his own age.

The other boy stalked forward, all wild blond hair and skinned joints and a gap-toothed grin.

Instead of ‘hello’ or any other normal greeting, the boy peered down at him with his arms folded behind his back and rocked back on his heels.

“I thought only sheep were dumb enough to get wrapped up and stuck in green briars,” The boy asked innocently.

“My papa’s like a sheep,” He provided unhelpfully, and the other boy scowled.

“Are  _ you _ a sheep?”

“No. I’m a boy, I think.”

“Well. H’llo, Boy, I’m Tommy.”

He emitted a wet giggle at Tommy’s jab. He was a little mean, but he was funny, so he gave him his name in return.

“I’m Tubbo.”

“Mm. Let’s get you outta there, huh?” Tommy asked, not waiting before producing a knife. Tubbo watched, entranced, as Tommy sawed away at the thorns.

“How come you carry that? I thought only big kids were s’pposed to.”

“You just about gotta, in the woods.” Tommy hummed. “My brother gave me this, and he’s a big kid, so he knows what I oughta do.”

“Oh.” Tubbo said, and looked down to his bee. He picked at a rip that had been pulled by the thorns. “I’m lost.”

“I guessed as much. Nobody lives out here but us, what’re ya doin’ here?”

Tubbo didn’t know who ‘us’ was, but he didn’t ask. Instead he just squinted and tried to answer Tommy’s question, but when he tried to remember he came up blank.

“I don’ remember, ‘m sorry.”

“Ah, no one cares. ‘S alright.” Tommy said, and extended a hand for Tubbo. When he took it, suddenly he was being pulled through the woods along a path that he hadn’t realized was there.

“-You’re all scraped up. So’s your friend, but my dad can fix that. He’s good at fixing stuff. He works a whole bunch but if we run we can catch him getting home, before he shuts his door and goes to bed-“

And Tommy talked a whole bunch, but Tubbo didn’t mind. He just smiled.

* * *

Tubbo was in the woods again. It was engraved in his mind as ‘Tommy’s woods’ now, even though Tommy wasn’t big enough to own anything as important as a forest and was only just living there.

He didn’t know which way he was going, just walked vaguely in the same direction as last time and waited to be found. It worked, too, and suddenly a person swung down from a branch- hanging there, upside down, a finger pointed at Tubbo.

“What’re you doing here?” Tommy asked, and Tubbo failed to come up with an answer. In all honesty, he should not be here.

Tommy took this as an excuse to barge on, hands waving as he talked. Tubbo was not yet adept enough at understanding other people to interpret an expression when looking at it upside down, but he thought Tommy looked a little mad.

“Last time you came here, you kept saying you were lost. Are you lost again?”

“My papa said not to talk to you,” Tubbo provided instead of an answer. It was true. His father had gained a very dark look when Tubbo returned home after being dropped off by his new friend’s father, weaving tales of the magical family in the forest with wings and tusks and magic. He said those people were wild, uncivilized, dangerous.

Tommy dropped to the ground, big blue eyes trained on him. He didn’t  _ seem _ dangerous.

“Lotsa folks say that.” Tommy answered, and when he said it, it sounded like a brag. Tubbo’s hand was taken in Tommy’s own.

Once again, he found himself being pulled along through the forest. Whenever Tommy led, navigating was easier than it was on his own. Tommy knew where to step, where to go so that the scary plants didn’t come to life and grab him like they had Tubbo.

* * *

These visits came and went, and Tubbo trekking through the woods became a common occurrence in the hours his father was gone. Walking took a long time, especially when he was on legs so small and unsuited for such a journey, but he did it anyways because time spent with Tommy was time not spent alone in his own cramped and empty house.

The door was always unlocked, regardless of whether or not Tommy’s dad was home. Tommy said it was because they were so far out in the forest that the only people who came were rogues and people who needed an open door, so it stayed that way and the animals of the forest treated them kindly for it.

Tubbo liked Tommy’s cabin. Sure, it was empty a lot, but on those days they could just run out into the woods and let the bugs be their company. 

The days when it wasn’t empty were the best, though. Tubbo was on his toes, feeling the top of the counter for snacks that he knew were there because Tommy had just climbed up there and stayed like he did when there was a prize he couldn’t reach. Tubbo didn’t climb himself, though, because when he did he felt bad for getting his shoes on the table and he wasn’t very fast about it anyways.

Philza entered and Tommy dropped down, scurrying out of the kitchen and down the hall like an escaping rat. Tubbo was comfortable enough here by now that he didn’t feel the need to follow, just kept patting the counter for whatever was waiting there for him.

A plate was pushed into his hands and Tubbo squeaked thanks to Philza. Then he looked down to where Tommy had fled off to.

“Why’s he run like that?” Tubbo asked, all wide-eyed and innocent as he still understood nothing about the true harshness of the world.

“Tommy is wild. Let him be wild.” Philza answered warmly, and Tubbo hummed and wandered off into the softness of the house.


	2. won’t say (that i’m not okay)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my dear, there are secrets here  
> i will carry them home
> 
> -
> 
> the backstory behind this excerpt from all scotch, no soda;  
> “...see if he could do any cool magic shit. Not the magic shit he could do in the real world- a skill he had violently repressed as soon as he’d found it...”

Tommy had woken up and immediately sensed that something was _wrong._

It didn’t hurt. It was just the ghost of a difference, like the sense of a phantom limb but in a place no body part- past or present- should be.

He’d been conscious for maybe thirty seconds, which had never been enough time before for him to get up and out of bed, but today was different. The room was still dark so he couldn’t quite see what was wrong. That meant that not even the sun was up yet.

Getting out of bed was a finicky procedure. He shared a room with Wilbur, which wouldn’t be as big of a problem as it was if they both slept in their own respective places.

Even as a young child, Tommy had been prone to nightmares, so for as long as he could remember he had climbed into Wilbur’s bed at night. He would make his older brother move away from the wall so that Tommy could have the safety of a corner against his back and Wilbur’s presence protecting him from the front. Eventually, Tommy didn’t have to ask anymore and the spot just started being left open for him.

That meant he had something on three of four sides though, trapping him in bed, so he had to carefully remove himself from under Wilbur’s comforter and creep down to slide off the foot of the bed. On silent paws, Tommy escaped into their little bathroom and flicked on the light.

A hand ( _paw?_ ) flew to clamp over his mouth, the skin darkened like he had a glove of soot. Rubbing didn’t make it go away. Shit, shit. Of _course_ he had to be a shapeshifter like his absent father, like his absent eldest brother, couldn’t just be a normal human like Wilbur and go on living his life without peculiar magic powers that removed him from the herd safety of identifying either as _man_ or _mob_. 

Curse his stupid little raccoon hands, curse the pointed claws he wasn’t used to having. He accidentally scratched himself when his hand flew up to feel for ears. 

He didn’t care about the light stinging against his scalp, only cared about the weird feeling of soft little animal ears in a place that they hadn’t been before.

He _had_ to figure out how to hide them before Wilbur woke up. He hadn’t even looked at himself in the mirror yet, only knew that everything was wrong and his life was going to fall apart right here and right now. He had too much internalized hatred towards shapeshifters to be able to cope with the fact that he was just now presenting as one himself.

And he didn’t even get cool wings or tusks like Philza and Techno. Just a stupid mask, stupid gloves, stupid little baby/rodent hands, and a stupid tail.

Briefly he wondered if his magic could work as a makeshift disguise, if he could use the newfound abilities to escape trouble better than he already could. That thought was almost immediately shoved away and he began tugging at his ears, trying to will them away with the most dangerous look he could muster.

He didn’t know how long he spent trying to fix himself when he heard banging at the door.

“Go away!” Tommy shrieked, much quicker and higher pitched than he cared to admit.

“You’ve been in there for a billion years! I need to piss!” Wilbur’s voice was muffled by the door, but not enough so that Tommy could ignore it. _Shit, shit._

“Go use the other bathroom!”

“Even if Techno wasn’t in there, I don’t want anything to do with the weird ritualistic shit he has in there! Get out or I’m coming in!”

Tommy threw his hands down on the counter, pleaded with whatever might be listening to wake him up from the nightmare he was enduring. Or… at least to make the ears go away. Maybe he could hide the raccoon markings with makeup and bind his tail to his back with bandages and he’d be safe. If only he could get rid of the _fucking ears_.

Tommy heard the jostling of their shitty old doorknob and whipped around just in time to throw himself up against the door before Wilbur could open it.

“Tommy- What the hell! What’s wrong with you?”

“I said _go away!_ ” Tommy shouted, lip curling to bare fangs in the place of human teeth. When he realized what he was doing he recoiled, hurt by the fact that he could display such aggression to _Wilbur_. Damn it, damn it. He really was no better than Techno.

Defeated and with tears pricking his eyes, Tommy pressed his shoulder into the door and slid down it. His feet found no traction as Wilbur forced the door open like it was nothing, even with Tommy’s weight resisting the push.

Wilbur had finally managed to get in, and Tommy locked eyes with a rightfully horrified looking older brother.

 _“Don’t tell Dad!”_ Tommy screamed, forceful and desperate, and it was the only thing he managed to get out before he exploded into tears.

Wilbur’s arms wrapped around Tommy, firm and protective and not at all hateful, and Tommy just sobbed harder into the worn fabric of Wilbur’s pajama shirt.

“Shh, Tommy, I won’t tell Dad. Shit. It’s okay.”

Believing Wilbur’s promise was the easiest thing he’d ever done, despite everything in him screaming that he was disgusting and Wilbur now hated him. Tommy was more animal than man, clearly, there was no reason his brother shouldn’t be scared of him. Wilbur _should_ turn his back on Tommy because he was no longer sleeping beside his little brother, but a dangerous monster of the night who could turn evil and slit his throat without a second look.

Nevermind. The more Tommy thought about it, the harder it was to believe.

“You don’t- ‘m not _normal_ , Wil, ‘m dangerous like Dad and Techno and you’re not and you should hate me-“

Wilbur shushed him again, adjusting himself so that he was sitting and he could pull the sniveling boy into his lap. Fingers found Tommy’s hair, carding through and lightly pushing against his scalp, and suddenly Tommy felt safe even if the cut hidden in his hair stung with the touch.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Wilbur whispered, and Tommy nodded.

He sat and watched, mouth dropping open as a rack of antlers emerged as a crown on Wilbur’s head. With them came long, diamond-shaped ears and fingertips that hardened into an odd combination of hoof and hand.

Tommy’s first impulse was to fling himself out of Wilbur’s arms, but he knew in his heart that Wilbur was safe so he didn’t do such a thing. He hesitated, then reached up with both hands to grab a prong of either antler. It was soft and velvety, as the racks of young deer so often were.

Wilbur tipped his head down and headbutted, light and gentle but so clearly _animal_ that Tommy had to do a double take.

Suddenly a few of Wilbur’s little habits made more sense, like taking his knife to the bark of trees every fall for the last few years or offering light nudges of the forehead as a peculiar form of comfort.

“How’d you do that.” Tommy demanded, flat and wet, before he remembered himself and asked a new question. “Do they know?”

“No. Only you.”

Tommy sniffed and snuggled into Wilbur’s hold more as large hands were placed over his ears.

“Focus really hard on the feeling of your ears there,” Wilbur started, and Tommy did. “I’m gonna tell you a story. It’ll sound muffled, but imagine it getting clearer and the sound of my voice coming from the direction it normally comes from.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed with the effort, but he poured all his attention into the sound of Wilbur’s tale of snowy white spots and pathetic little antler stubs and rags stuffed into his shoes so that they’d stay on even if toes turned to hoof. At one point the world was dead silent to him, which was beyond terrifying, but he didn’t let his tunnel vision falter and soon the world was back to normal.

“Better?” Wilbur asked, and Tommy craned his neck to look in the full-length mirror rested against the wall on the other side of the bathroom. His tear tracks were ruddy like he had just finished crying off a heavy layer of mascara, but when he palmed at his cheeks with the heel of his hand, the dark marks rubbed off like they really were caused by just makeup. Everything else about him was back to the way it had been the night before.

“Yes.”

“If Dad asks, you had another nightmare.” Wilbur instructed. Tommy looked up and found that the ears and antlers had disappeared once more. He could only nod.

His brother’s palms rose to press against his cheeks.

“No one can prove we’re not normal.” Wilbur said, and Tommy nodded. The silent vow to never show anyone hung heavy in the air.

“No one can prove we’re not normal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	3. it got cold, we got bold

Tubbo had been Tommy’s only friend his age for about as long as he could remember, but that didn’t make his position as ‘best friend’ any less valuable. Tommy dragged Tubbo along any time he caught the slightest whiff of adventure, and Tubbo usually just laughed and followed along with trust that shone above the nervous compliance.

Tubbo got... tentative, sometimes. He was skittish- and Tommy was too, but where the latter’s recklessness and energetic zeal overpowered the urge to flee back home to Wilbur’s arms, Tubbo was too gentle and soft for that kind of abandon. Tommy loved him anyways, just promised to protect and to not let anything get to his friend.

This was one of those times when Tommy had heard of an adventure and immediately grabbed Tubbo.

“Why are we doing this?” Tubbo had started, palming at his eyes. Tommy had woken him, but that was not what he chose to complain about.

“C’mon, Tubbo, if I didn’t push you out of your comfort zone you’d have the most boring childhood on earth.”

Tommy did not understand Tubbo, did not understand how the other could amuse himself so easily at home and not itch with a burning desire to _run_. Tommy’s knees were always skinned, legs always bruised, and he rarely spent days just hanging around and relaxing, but he had _fun_ and that was what mattered. Wild fun, that crackled like fire and electricity and sent excited chills down his spine. Call him an adrenaline junkie, but the risk was part of the fun.

“I quite like not falling into sinkholes or whatever else it is you do.” Tubbo’s grumble was quiet and mutinous, but it still made Tommy flush with nervous embarrassment and anger. That hadn’t even been _his fault_ , and the feeling of being trapped alone had been the subject of nightmares for months. Being contained, alone and unable to escape, it was the worst kind of fear.

He opened his mouth for a burning retort, but Tubbo could sense the beginnings of an argument before it even came so he moved on before the opportunity was had. “And you’re sure this is safe?”

Tommy immediately forgot his anger and grinned, all wicked and scheming. “No.”

“But what if-“

“I’m kidding.” Tommy didn’t look back as he dove over a collapsed shrub with ease, only nudging it aside with his foot to make a path for Tubbo. He knew full well the other boy wasn’t as… adept at forest navigation as he was, what he’d done was a silent hand extended in a show of brotherhood. Tommy could disappear into greenery that blocked everything from one’s vision and still emerge without a scratch, he didn’t need any kind of cut-clean trail.

Banter came easily from there as the two boys weaved through the near-invisible forest path. There was only one mishap, too, when Tubbo just about slipped crossing the fallen log that bridged over a dried creek bed that now more closely resembled a tiny ravine. All in all, it was more successful than last time.

They finally came upon dilapidated ruins, cobblestone and stone bricks tucked away into the forest where it had been quietly crumbling alone until now. Nothing special, probably just a bunker or an old home, but old things like this could tell a million silent stories if anyone cared to show up and listen.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Tubbo asked the same question again, more nervous-sounding this time, and Tommy bit back a sigh.

“Calm down, now it’s just a thing for weird animals to eat and have babies in.”

Tommy began poking around a collapsed wall, kicking aside loose pebbles so he could scale it without fear of slipping. He’d come upon it while on his own and saved all investigating for when he had Tubbo there with him. A silent gesture of friendship, finding a source of fun and holding back from it until the other boy was there to enjoy it with him.

“That’s, like, weirdly poetic. Beautiful, in a way.”

“No it isn’t, you’re just all day-dreamy and optimistic and shit.”

“Shut up, big man.”

Tommy sat on top of the wall. He looked down at Tubbo, who was poking around beneath fallen stones until he found a ring snake beneath one and tried to grab for it.

Tommy smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one’s short and kinda dialogue heavy for what it is but i really wanted to write some banter


End file.
